The Human Spirit
by Klitch27
Summary: Set between 3A and 3B. Derek gets a visit from an old friend before leaving for South America, Scott, Isaac, and Stiles join in. Some bromance between Scott and Isaac, and reflections on the importance of Stiles' humanity.


It was a clear autumn night as Derek sat in his loft, reflecting upon the events that had transpired. The moon was a waning gibbous in the sky, and it poured silver light into Derek's loft, illuminating the young werewolf's rough features.

Scott was an Alpha now, a True Alpha, and had inherited an ancient and awesome power. Derek respected and cared for Scott, but even he was unsure about what this transformation would bring.

Derek's sister was out for the night, and Peter had departed. He left his Uncle to his own designs. In two days, they would begin their travels to South America. Derek needed to leave this place, at least for a little while. He needed to commune with hidden forces. There was too much sadness in this town, too much tragedy. Beacon Hills was steeped with blood and shadow, and would soon become a hub of Supernatural beasts and specters.

There was long, jarring ring. Someone was at his door. Mystified, but cautious, Derek extended his claws. It was probably Scott or Isaac, yet these days, threats could appear from anywhere. _What now_? He thought.

The door opened, and Derek allowed himself a smile.

The young man at the portal was dark and thin. He was dressed in a leather jacket, a red hooded sweatshirt, jeans, and black sneakers. Though his features were swarthy, his hair was white and metallic, like it was made of shards of steel.

"Serif," Derek said with a smile. "It's been a long time."

"Too long!" the man replied, and he approached Derek. His eyes glittered. The two exchanged a warm embrace.

"I heard you were in San Fran. What the hell are you doing down here?" Derek inquired.

"Visiting you, of course. Though word is it that you're leaving town," Serif replied. "I can't blame you, of course. With sociopathic druids running around."

A pain went through Derek's heart. He had loved the creature Serif was referring to. He noted, with some melancholy, that almost everyone he loved was a sociopath.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Derek told his friend.

"Well, we should go out then!" Serif said.

Derek crossed his arms. "Like…go out where?"

"You tell me, what do you do for fun around here nowadays?" Serif asked. He threw himself on Derek's couch, and asked, "You got any beer?"

Derek had none, but thought for a moment, "Wait a second." Disappearing for a moment, he returned with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Serif grinned when he saw it. "My man!"

Derek retrieved two glasses, and poured one for himself and his friend. Serif downed it with a gulf. Without skipping a beat, he said again, "So what do you all do for fun around here?"

"Well, I think there's a basketball game at the high school…"

Serif laughed, and said slowly, "Basketball game at the high school…shit, Derek, you've been spending way too much time around teenagers."

Derek looked sullen, and muttered, "I guess I don't get out very much. I mean, what do you these days, you were taking the bar exam, right?"

Serif helped himself to more whiskey. "I took the bar exam, and I passed."

"Congratulations."

"Fuck it," Serif said, waiving his hand around, "Waste of my damn time. I wish I could be around here fighting monsters with you. But instead, I'm looking for a job. It's a tough market these days." Serif glanced around the place, "How do you afford this place, anyway?"

"My family's trust."

"Word," Serif said. "Alright man, I think I remember this one bar I went to around here last time I was in town. It's pretty cool."

"Sure…." Derek frowned. He glanced at his text messages.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing, I feel like I should be inviting…"

"The other members of your pack?" Serif rolled his eyes. "Oh, you werewolves. Sure, whatever. But let's wait till later, shall we? My time is precious, and I'd much rather catch up with you than hang out with you than drink with adolescents."

"Not like alcohol can do much for me," Derek told his friend. "Don't you remember how much I had to drink when we were kids? We break it down much quicker than humans."

Serif smiled, "I knew that, of course. And I have something for that." He produced a small blue vial and handed it to Derek.

Derek eyed it suspiciously, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Stardust leaf," Serif said. "The rare relative to wolfsbane. It inhibits parts of your metabolism but not your healing factor. Meaning, if you get into trouble, everything should work just normally."

"But I can still get drunk."

"You can still get drunk, yes," Serif said. "Now…"

"Give me the bottle of Jack," Derek said, his voice low and dangerous.

Serif smiled, and passed him the bottle. Derek received it, and chugged some of its contents.

"Now that's the Derek I know!"

Derek coughed, and Serif momentarily worried he was about to heave. "But seriously…" Derek said. "We should call these kids. They may be able to drive for us…"

Serif flashed a grin. "That sounds great."

Derek procured his phone. "I'll give them a call. While we're waiting, I tell you a little about what's been happening around this town."

Scott and Isaac sat at home. They lounged on Scott's futon, streaming Battleship Universa, a popular science fiction show. Scott's mother was out for her night shift. Things seemed to be falling back into place, though Scott remained anxious about the consequences of his sacrifice.

"So, the Sylons are robots?" Isaac said.

"Nah, not exactly, they're biological," Scott said, his words muffled by half chewed chips.

"I see. But I thought they were machines," Isaac wondered.

"They are."

"And they turn red when they have sex?"

"Yeah," Scott said, a little annoyed. He had explained this before.

"So they're robots," Isaac repeated. He stuffed his hand into the bag of chips.

"No, Isaac," Scott said, exasperated. "I'm not explaining myself…they're…" his phone buzzed. A look of concern flashed on his face.

"What's up?" Isaac asked.

"Derek told me to get over to his loft. He said it's really important." Scott leapt off the couch and grabbed a black motorcycle jacket. He went upstairs, and returned with two helmets.

Isaac ran a hand through his hair. "What now?"

"Maybe the Deucalion came back. We should check it out." Isaac nodded in agreement. The boys left the house, and the roar of a motorcycle engine disrupted the quiet night, as the two set off to meet Derek.

"Scott! There you are!" Derek said. Him and Serif were leaning on Derek's black Camaro. Scott's motorcycle screeched to a halt.

"What's up? What happened?" Scott said, as he removed his helmet. _Is he smiling? I never see him smile_, Scott thought.

Derek tossed him a set of keys. "Scott, Isaac, this is Serif. Serif, Isaac and Scott."

"Hiya!" Serif said.

"Who are you?" Isaac said, looking the newcomer up and down.

"I'm an old friend of Derek's," he told them.

"Uh, hey," Scott said, strangely surprised that someone had referred to himself as Derek's friend. He would have been less surprised if Serif had said he was a vampire. Scott eyed the keys, and sniffed. "Are you guys drunk?

"Those werewolf senses don't miss a thing, do they kid?" Serif said emphatically, patting Scott on the shoulder.

_Well, I guess he knows that much about Derek_. Scott thought. "I didn't know we could even get drunk," Scott said, raising an eyebrow. "Why did you call us?"

"You guys are going to be driving us around tonight," Derek told him.

"Uhhh, okay," Scott said. He was a little annoyed that Derek had called him to look for a ride, but was relieved everything was okay.

"Unless you have other plans?" Serif offered.

"We were watching Battlestar Galactica," Isaac told him.

Derek rolled his eyes, but Serif's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, that's excellent. Great show. Really fell apart in the last season though."

"The girls in it pretty cute," Isaac mentioned.

"Can we go now?" Derek snapped.

"Yeah, sure," Scott said, as he locked up his bike. "Where do you guys want to go?"

"There's a really good Japanese karaoke bar I know of on eleventh street," Serif told him, and hopped in the front seat of the car.

Scott had to laugh at this. He turned to Derek, "Kareoke bar? Are you serious?"

Derek shrugged and entered the vehicle. He was far too buzzed to explain himself.

"Yeah, I thought you hated fun," Isaac said.

"He does, most of the time," Serif commented.

"Eat shit, Serif," Derek said. But he said it with a smile. Bewildered, Scott turned on the engine, and reversed, and the group set out for downtown Beacon Hills.

"I can't believe you guys like this stuff," Isaac said dryly.

In the middle of the bar, Derek, after being dared by his friend, had seized the karaoke microphone and was doing his personal rendition of a late nineties alternative rock ballad.

"That's what was on the radio when we were in high school," Serif told him. He winced. Derek was not hitting those high notes well. Serif cast a glance at Scott, whose jaw was dangling open as he watched Derek, in a stupor, sing his heart out.

"Whaaatttever tomoorrrow, brings I'll bee theerrrreeee…..with open arms and open eyes….yeaaahhh!"

"It still sucks," Isaac said.

Serif took a swig of beer. "No, it doesn't. The nineties and the early 2000s were just so much more emotionally sincere. Back then we had punk rock. We had grunge, and we had rappers that rapped about pain and anguish."

"Nowadays everything about you kids, your music, the way you dress, the way you talk, its layered in irony and hidden meaning and duplicity. You know pain, you know suffering, but you don't know how to process it, how to release it. You only know how to be ironic. "

Isaac glanced at Derek, "I wish he was being ironic."

"Oh come on, let him sing," Serif said, "You boys more than anyone know he's had a rough couple of months. From what I've heard, you both have had."

Scott nodded dumbly, and took a sip from his coke, "You know," he said, "If I ever mention this to Derek...he'll probably try to kill me."

"Yes, he'll try to kill you, you're True Alpha status notwithstanding," Serif said.

"So what's your deal?" Isaac asked.

"What do you mean, my deal?" Serif said.

"I mean, are you a druid or a werewolf or a vampire…are you human?" Isaac said.

"I'm a lawyer, so I suppose I'm not exactly human," Serif said.

Scott chuckled. Isaac said, "Well, how did you become friends with Derek? Are you a like a _supernatural_ lawyer?"

Serif shrugged, "Supernatural lawyer? The hell? We met in 8th grade algebra. Good God, man, has fighting monsters really altered your expectations like this? How did you and Scott become friends?"

Scott glanced at Isaac, "Well, it was around the time we tried to tranquilize a kanima in the middle of a nightclub."

Serif raised his hand, "Okay, I get it. Don't want to hear about this."

A server dropped a gin and tonic on their table. Isaac thanked the server, and sipped it. Serif raised an eyebrow. "I have a fake." Isaac told him.

Serif eyed the drink, "How old are you, seventeen?"

"I'm eighteen."

Serif smiled, and produced the blue vial, "Then I don't feel so bad about offering you this."

"What's that?" Scott asked, curious.

_I'm going to hell,_ Serif thought.

"It's similar to wolfsbane," Serif told him. "It's called Stardust. Long story short, you'll be able to get intoxicated."

Isaac eyed the potion. He was still unsure about trusting this man, but something about Derek's change in behavior around him convinced him. He smiled slightly, and said, "Well, I want to test your magic potion."

Serif offered him the blue vial. He noted the look of curiosity in Scott's face. Casting a quick glance at the bartender and the other patrons, Serif made a mental note that no one was watching.

"Scott…it's Scott, right? I wouldn't want to leave you out of the fun. And I suppose we could just get a cab for later."

"SERIF! Come up here, bro!"

Scott and Isaac looked at each other, utterly shocked.

Serif produced a red and silver flask, adorned with a sickle and a hammer. "A fraternity brother of mine bought this when he was chasing werewolves in Russia…yes, there are werewolves in Russia. It's a big old world out there. The shit inside here tastes like jet fuel. I'm going to leave it here, and well, if something happened to it, well, it wouldn't be my fault, would it?"

Serif rose, smiled, and joined Derek at the front of the bar. Both of them started belting out some early 2000s funk and rock and roll hybrid.

Wincing at their off key voices, Scott looked at the flask. He stared at it for a moment.

"I don't know what you'd do without me," Isaac said, rolling his eyes. He picked up the flask, poured the stardust into it, and thrust it before Scott. "Drink it, dude."

Scott took a swig. Isaac took the flask from him, and did the same. Scott coughed, sticking out his tongue in disgust. "He was wrong. It doesn't taste like jet fuel. Whatever this is, it tastes far worse."

"Yeah…," Isaac, squinting. "But I think he's right about the fairy dust." He took a look at Serif and Derek, who had their arms draped around each others shoulders as they bellowed a song that Isaac did not recognize.

"They're hilarious," Scott said.

"Yeah are," Isaac admitted. "I've never seen Derek so happy."

"Yeah," Scott said. "He deserves it."

Isaac shrugged. He had not forgotten the incident when Derek had thrown the glass at him. Though he acknowledged the older wolf was trying to protect him, the way he expressed it had struck a delicate nerve.

"Isaac, he's sorry for what he did. I know he is," Scott said, sensing what Isaac was thinking about.

"Haha, whatever," Isaac said, smiling briefly. He took another drink.

All four of the young men were rather drunk when they stumbled outside the bar.

"Some designated driver you are, kid," Serif said, giving Scott a light shove. He stumbled, as if he had pushed a concrete wall. "I guess we're all calling a cab."

"You can afford it," Derek said loudly. "You're a lawyer, remember?"

"I'm an unemployed lawyer," Serif told him. "God damn, I'm going to be hungover tomorrow. Derek, remember the first time we drank together? After you won that basketball game in tenth grade?"

Derek roared with hearty laughter. "Yeah, at Marty's house. That was the first time I did a kegstand."

Serif produced something from his jacket pocket. It was a pack of cigarettes. Derek eyed them hungrily as Serif pulled one out, placed it between his lips, and lit it. Its tip burned bright orange in the dark.

"May I?" Derek asked.

"Of course, brother."

A look of horror crossed Scott's face. "Derek, no!"

Derek ignored him and lit the cigarette. Serif chuckled. "Kids these days, huh?"

"Derek, that's going to kill you," Scott told him, sternly.

"No, it's going to kill _me_," Serif snapped at him.

Scott would not be convinced. "Derek, those are really bad for you," he said stubbornly. Derek ignored him and took a drag. A wisp of smoke coiled from Serif's lips as he smiled at the teenager.

"Hey, could I have one?" Isaac asked.

Smoldering, Scott glared at Isaac, "Isaac…" he said, his voice grating.

Isaac hesitated.

Serif grinned, "Good choice, kid. In fact, I have a better idea for later. Your friend's right anyway, these things are bad for you."

The group headed over to a local convenience store. Scott and Isaac went to get a few bottles of water so they could remain hydrated. Derek and Serif remained outside of the store, and, in spite of Scott's ardent protests, shared another smoke.

"You know…about Allison," Isaac said, after taking a sip from the water.

"Yeah, man, I get it, it's cool, you know," Scott said. He passed a bottle of water to Serif. Serif raised a hand to give him a high five, and the young Alpha returned it.

Isaac eyed him, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Scott…" Isaac said, his voice touched with sadness, "I can tell that you're lying. I mean you know that I can tell, right? Wolf hearing or no wolf hearing."

Scott sighed, "I just want the two of you to be happy."

"I know," Isaac responded, "but I don't just care about her. I care…" he looked away, "I care about you too, man."

Isaac heard Derek snort. Serif shoved him, "Don't be an asshole, Derek, they need to talk about this. Come, there's stuff I need to talk to you about too."

Derek raised his bushy eyebrows, and him and his friend disappeared in the shadows.

Scott waited patiently for the two older guys to make some distance. With his elevated senses, he could hear them chatting, but ignored what they were speaking about. He was glad Serif made the gesture, in spite of Derek's enhanced hearing.

"Look, I mean, uh," Scott said, "I don't know how I feel about it yet. And I'm not sure I want to talk about it when we're like this."

"That's fine, of course," Isaac said. He looked a little relieved, but somewhat sad. Isaac turned his eyes downwards. "There's something I want to say, though. About something else."

"Yeah?" Scott said.

"Thanks for taking me in. Thanks for everything. I know you didn't trust me, I know Stiles doesn't like me, and you trust Stiles…"

"Stiles doesn't doesn't like you," Scott interjected, his voice slurred slightly.

"Whatever, look, I just…I never would want to do anything to hurt you."

Scott stared at him. Though didn't burn with supernatural crimson, they haunted Isaac. They were full of such trust and warmth, truth and affection. Then suddenly, Scott pulled Isaac into a long hug. "It's okay, man."

Isaac's muscles became stiff. He was not used to this. His childhood had been filled with violence and fury. His elder brother's moods would shift between glacial stoicism and frightful rage. His father, well, his father was his father, and Isaac's sleep was still haunted by his abuse. Yet, at that moment, the stardust and alcohol pulsing through his veins, he let the cold around his heart melt away. He hugged Scott back.

"Scott, dude," Isaac said softly, "When I heard what happened at the motel in, I…I don't know. I couldn't ever lose you. I love you, man."

"I love you too," Scott said to him back. "Stiles isn't my only brother."

Isaac felt some moisture behind his eyes, and then suddenly, Serif and Derek approached. Awkwardly, the two teenagers released each other. To their credit, neither of the two older guys said anything.

"Alright, it's two o'clock," Serif announced. "Nothing good happens after two o'clock. Unless we make it happen." He looked around. The streets were empty. "I don't think any of us are getting laid tonight. "

"I never want to have sex again," Derek said miserably.

"Yeah, whatever dude," Serif said, rolling his eyes.

"I only end up having sex with psychopaths," Derek responded.

"Alright, I get it," Serif said. "It's like Jaws, right? Afterwards you don't want to get into the water." Serif said. "Come on, man, there are beautiful, intelligent women out there for you!"

"Yeah, Jaws one, Jaws two, and Jaws three!"

"Jennifer Blake isn't the worse person you've slept with."

"You mean Kate?" Derek challenged.

"No, I mean, Ally Thompson…Remember, from that law school happy hour in LA I took you to?"

Derek looked at him, stunned. "How was Ally worse than Kate? Or Jennifer? Kate killed my family. Jennifer almost killed the parents of like, everyone here!"

Serif rubbed his chin, and considered this briefly. "Well, yeah…I suppose, when you put it that way."

"I have an idea," Scott said suddenly. "If you guys want, there's this place in the woods we could go. It looks out over the whole town. We could watch the sun come up."

Serif smiled, "That would be kind of cool. What do you say, Derek?"

Derek thought about this, and nodded. "Life is short."

Scott smiled broadly, and procured his phone, "I think I'll call Stiles."

"What the hell is a stiles?" Serif asked loudly.

"You'll like this kid," Derek said to Serif. "He's really annoying. He reminds me of you."

"Well, I like me, so I'll like anyone that reminds you of me,"

Scott pulled out his phone, and called Stiles. He practically shouted in the phone to get his best friend out, before turning happily to his comrades. "He was awake! He's coming to get us."

Serif was amused at how Scott's eyes lit up when he referred to Stiles. The teen wolf had also smiled so broadly when he raised the idea that the gang watch the sunrise. It reminded him of a youthful fire that he and Derek used to possess. _What happens when you get older? How does that disappear? Even with the darkness this kid has stared into, he still has it._

Not long afterwards, the two bright headlights appeared downwind of the group, and a jeep pulled up. The window rolled down, and Stiles peered out the window. The others were too drunk to notice the bags under his eyelids. "What's up, guys? Need a ride?"

Scott jumped in the front seat and gave his friend a quick hug. The other three piled in the back.

"Who's this guy?" Stiles said with a yawn, jerking a thumb at Serif.

"Serif," came the response.

"Gotcha, Serif, good to meet you. Are you human?"

"Close, I'm a lawyer."

"Dude, that is the second time you've used that joke tonight," Isaac said.

"Who are we, the Simon Cowell of supernatural jokes? Shut the fuck up, kid."

"Where are we going?" Stiles asked. He was tired, but happy to see Scott. Though he hadn't been sleeping well, he was glad had a couple wasted teenagers and two wasted twentysomethings in the back of his jeep. It reminded him of less complex times, and kept his thoughts away from the strange dreams he was having.

"Beacon point," Scott told him, his eyes wide with excitement. "We're all gonna watch the sunrise. It's so awesome."

"It's alright," Derek muttered.

"Oh come on, don't be such a sourwolf," Serif said.

"I'm going to rip your throat out. With my teeth," Derek growled.

Stiles actually laughed at this. "I think we're going to be friends, Serif."

"Dude, I'm just glad you're down to be the designated driver," Serif leaned across Derek and between the front seats. "No seriously, you're a good friend to these guys for doing this."

"I'd do anything for this guy," Stiles said. He ruffled Scott's hair. Scott grinned. He looked like a puppy. "The guys in the back….welllll…." He turned to Isaac. "Isaac, it's chilly tonight, where's your scarf?"

"Just drive, Stiles," Isaac said with a smile. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

The Jeep drove off into the Northern California darkness, leaving downtown Beacon Hills behind them.

The guys parked their car on the top of a hill, and stumbled out over the vehicle. Behind them were the vast sentinels of the Beacon Hills nature preserve, oaks, pines, and even ancient redwoods. Before them, over a steep cliff, was the whole town. Its lights blazed beneath the fading moonlight. Scott gazed out over the panorama. He could see the tall spires of the industrial district, where Derek's loft was. Focusing his supernatural eyesight, he zoned in on the red and white water tower near the high school, which read "Beacon Hills, Home of the Cyclones." Blinking, he glanced at the steel and glass buildings in the commercial sector before setting his eyes on the mountain range beyond the town, which made a dark smudge in the distance.

"You know, not far from here is the Pacific ocean," Derek observed. "And beyond those mountains is the other side of America."

"Yeah," Scott said. "I've never really left the West Coast. I went to Mexico to visit my grandparents once, but that's about it."

"You should visit New York," Derek told him. "I went there after the fire. It's pretty cool."

"I was thinking about that," Scott admitted. "But I was also thinking… like, since you mentioned the Pacific ocean, maybe this summer we should all get out of the town and go surfing."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "You know how to surf?"

"Not well, but yeah," Scott said. "Do you?"

"Nah, I've never been" Derek admitted. "Serif does though."

Serif was chatting to Stiles about some game on the Playstation 4. Scott smiled slightly. He was glad Stiles was making a new friend. The past couple days had been difficult for all of them, and he knew that Stiles was feeling the darkness that was born from their sacrifice.

Isaac was also lounging with Serif and Stiles. He saw Serif produce a thin white object. "Is that what I think it is?" Isaac asked.

"Probably," Serif said. "You down?"

"Hell yeah," Stiles said with a mischievous grin, nodding vigorously. Isaac nodded once in agreement.

_ Christ, I could get disbarred for this,_ Serif thought grimly to himself. But then he looked behind him into the deep wood, then out into the sky, and his feelings evaporated. Producing a neon lighter, he lit the joint. He inhaled deeply, and passed it to Stiles. A cloud of white smoke appeared in the air as he exhaled. Stiles took a puff, then spluttered, coughing for several minutes.

"Hahahah damn kid," Serif chuckled.

"It's alright," Stiles made a waving motion with his hands as he coughed some more. He passed the joint to Isaac. Isaac inhaled effortlessly, paused, and let a stream of smoke escape from his narrow lips.

Scott and Derek noticed what they were doing. Derek scrunched his face up into a frown. Scott looked quizzically at them, and asked, "Are you guys on drugs?"

"Right now?" Stiles tittered. "Yes, Scott, we are."

"Don't worry, I have a medical card," Serif told him.

Derek shot Serif a disapproving feature. "Watch it, guys. You could get the spins. There's a pretty steep drop here. If you start feeling sick, there's water in Stiles' jeep. And Serif, come on, these guys are just kids."

"This soft side is making me very attracted to you," Stiles said. "Wanna make out? Just to see how it feels?"

Derek chuckled. A grin appeared on his face, and his eyes flashed blue. He snarled at Stiles and bared his fangs. Nonplussed, Stiles snarled back. He made a back and forth motion with his hands, "After two years of this, I'm not afraid of you, big guy."

Serif inhaled from the joint again, and passed it to Isaac. Isaac declined. "I think I'm going to go for a walk in the woods. It's been a while." Serif announced.

Derek nodded. "I think I'm going to chill here. We still have a couple hours till sunrise."

"No problem, brother. Anyone want to join?"

"I'll go," Stiles offered. Serif clapped him on the back, and the two disappeared in the trees.

Serif and Stiles wandered through the forest, bounding over roots and climbing over rocky hills. The sounds of the wild night sang through the nature preserve, accentuated by the grass they had been smoking.

Serif regaled the teen about stories about Derek in high school, sending Stiles into fits of laughter. Stiles shared his own tales about Scott, many of which brought a smile to the man's face.

"But yeah, we kept that kitten hidden from his mom for two weeks," Stiles told the other. "When she finally found it you should have seen the look on his face. He could have gotten away with murder."

"You really care about him, don't you?" Serif said.

"Yeah," Stiles said. "He's my brother."

Serif nodded, a little taken back by his frankness. Stiles was an amusing kid, articulate, with sharp wit and eccentric body language. He was also a teenager. Serif had not expected the sincerity. Thinking for a moment, he took a puff from the joint, and offered, "It's good to have friends like that. Old friends. In college you don't often make friends like that. When you do, you don't keep them for long after."

"Hah, college," Stiles said with a chuckle. "I haven't even thought about that."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

Stiles shrugged, and ducked to avoid an outstretched branch. "I wanted to get into Stanford but I hear its full of douches. Doubt I have the grades. Berkeley would be cool though. I wanna go someplace in-state. I don't want to be too far away from Scott."

"Yeah," Serif said. He heard bats screeching in the distance, and glanced around. "Berkeley's an awesome town, and it's not far from here, really. I went there. Derek wanted to go there too when we were kids, but the fire really messed up his head, and tanked his grades. He graduated from high school, but I didn't see him for a couple years."

Stiles said nothing. The idea of not seeing Scott for a couple years made him a little said. "Damn," he finally said. "You know, I never really thought about how that that must have affected him. The fire, I mean."

"Nevermind him," Serif said. "You guys have seen a lot of death and sadness that you shouldn't have had to."

"Yeah…" Stiles said. He paused, and said, "I remember Scotty…well….Scott was really sick one night…and I…."

"Yeah, I heard about this," Serif said, nodding. He moved some branches away from his face. "He tried to kill himself, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "That was the worse night of my life. And I've had some pretty terrible nights." The teen's face became grim. Serif passed him the joint.

"Have you thought about talking to someone?"

"Like a therapist?" Stiles offered.

"Yeah, maybe."

"I don't know," Stiles admitted. "Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind. But I doubt there's many therapists that have experience with friggin' werewolves and magic trees. And wolfsbane induced suicide attempts. Even if there were, I still need to process a lot that's happened." Stiles took another drag from the joint, and passed it to Serif.

Serif nodded, taking the joint from Stiles. "Yeah. I don't know what I can say to help you. But what I do know, is that you two are heroes."

Stiles leapt over a log. "I'm not a hero."

Serif shook his head. "Yeah you are, kid. If for any reason, you're a hero for being there for you boy when you needed him." Serif put a hand on Stiles shoulder and locked eyes with him. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

At that moment, Serif thought he could see into Stiles heart. He thought he could glimpse the darkness surrounding it. And for a split second, he thought he could feel another presence in Stiles.

Serif dismissed these thoughts. _You're just being paranoid, dude_, he told himself. He did bring himself to say, "You are a hero. And when times get tough, never forget that."

Stiles looked at him appreciatively, and Serif coughed. They continued their trek through the woods.

"I think I've been here before," Serif admitted. "A guy I dated briefly one summer took me here." He kicked some moss off his shoe. "Hmm…looks like _Letharia Vulpina_…"

"Oh…." Stiles nodded. "So you're gay?"

"I play for both teams," Serif said nonchalantly.

There was silence. Then suddenly, "Do you find me attractive?" Stiles asked.

"Haha, sure," Serif said. "But I have to say, I've given up on guys for a while. When dudes get to my age, most of them become assholes, I'm sorry to say."

The guys landed in a clearing, and found a tree stump. Stiles eyes lit up in fear, but he calmed himself. It wasn't the Nemeton that haunted his dreams.

"So I take it you like girls?" Serif asked.

"Absolutely," Stiles said, without hesitation.

Serif took another drag from the joint, and offered it to Stiles. Stiles waved it away. "I'm good."

Serif nodded. "Do you like boys?"

Stiles looked out into the shadows, as if considering this. "I mean…I find some guys attractive. Truth be told, I even had something of a crush on Scott in ninth grade." He chuckled. "We even kissed once during truth or dare."

"Scott's an attractive guy," Serif agreed. "He's very compassionate, and honest with his feelings. You don't see that often. With any person."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "But I don't feel that way about him anymore. Not now." He chuckled. "We've been through way too much now. I love the guy…but…" Serif trailed off.

"You like Derek?" Serif smirked.

"Now that's just absurd," Stiles said with a laugh. "That's just ridiculous! He's like eight years older than me, and he' can be a freakin' asshole…no offense," Stiles said.

"None taken," Serif responded. "I know how he can be."

"But yeah…I like boys," Stiles said. He blinked, "I like boys. Funny, that's the first time I've admitted that to someone. Well, besides Scott." Stiles suddenly felt the need to assert his heterosexuality. "I was really in love with this girl…Lydia for a long time…"

"Ahh yeah," Serif said with a laugh, flicking the joint away. "The unrequited love. I went through that with a girl after college briefly."

"But yeah," Stiles said. "I like boys," he repeated. There was something liberating about saying it.

"It's not a big deal. Especially nowadays," Serif shrugged. He squinted his eyes, pondered for a moment, and said, "Well, it's a big deal to you on some level. It is a part of who you are."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed.

"You know, when Derek and I were in high school kids defined themselves by their homophobia. Derek used to drop F bombs until I confronted him about it. Nowadays, I think that's changing, though. Though you have yet to see a positive portrayal of bisexuality, or whatever you want to call it, on the media."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "When you told Derek, did he react okay?"

"Not initially," Serif told him. "It was a different time. But he got over it. After all, he had to make a confession about who he was, too. That's when it was no longer a big deal."

Stiles thought about this. He couldn't imagine a world where Scott would reject him for anything. It was an utterly alien notion. He glanced at Serif. He really liked the guy's jacket, and found his silver-white hair interesting. Serif was a slim as a sword, and had piercing eyes, draped in long, curled eyelashes.

"So has it been hard for you?" Serif inquired.

"Has what been hard for me?" Stiles said, rubbing a hand across his face. Though he was enjoying himself, he felt hazy from the intoxicant they had consumed and his lack of sleep.

"You know, dealing with all the crazy shit you've been dealing with…and make no mistake, it is crazy," Serif said, "And being a teenager at the same time."

Stiles laughed. He briefly gazed out into the woods, and let himself stare out into space. _God damn I'm stoned._ Finally, he said, "Yeah…it's been pretty tough. What happened with this sacrifice…I don't know if Derek told you…it's really gotten to my head. I don't know what's going on anymore. What could happen anymore."

Serif felt a pang of sympathy. _Don't get involved. Don't get invested in this kid's life. He's just the best friend of a teenage werewolf_, he told himself, and then_, fuck it, I'm already involved. _

"Have you ever been around San Diego?" Serif asked him.

"Nah," Stiles said, lost in his thoughts. "Well, to Sea World when I was a kid."

"There's this cove near La Jolla," Serif told him. "If you swim a mile and a half out from it, there's an island where all the seals gather at night. Literally hundreds. Dolphins even play and swim in the shores around it. Some say you can even encounter mermaids." Serif smiled. "When Derek and I were nineteen, a few years after the fire, he had finally come back. We took a trip down there. Derek wanted to swim out to the cove, to see if there were any mermaids."

"I told him I'd challenge him to a race. He might have his strength and speed, but I was the more talented swimmer. I had the heart. Derek being Derek, he took me up on that challenge."

Stiles turned to face Serif, as the man continued, "You spend time around these guys, these supernaturals, you think they're invincible. You think they're all powerful. But often times they lose something with that power."

"When we made that swim, Derek passed out a mile out into the ocean. I could see him vanish into the ocean. I could see him drowning. And I had no idea how this could have happened to this supernatural being."

"So what happened?" Stiles said, recalling a memory of him and Derek in a pool.

"I swam toward him, put him on my back, and swam like hell toward the shore. He woke up a little while later, and we got there okay." Serif said.

Stiles jaw dropped. "How the hell did he pass out?"

Serif shifted his head to one side. "When Derek's family died, a part of him died too. And the problem was, he always felt like it was his fault. Nevermind what happened with Kate, he always felt like could have done something more."

"I think when you have that power, when you have that strength, I think often times, you think you can save everyone, and do anything, and face any harm. But you lose touch with reality. You lose touch with your inner will, your human spirit. The spirit that's shaped my your limitations, that's molded by fear of death, and conquest of the fear of death. The spirit that accepts we're all alone in a hostile forest, yet we have to stay alive and move on and fucking survive." Serif opened his palms and shrugged. "And I think Derek lost touch with his human spirit, his will. And I think it's why he almost drowned."

Stiles wasn't following this. "So what are you saying, that human will beats wolf powers?" Stiles said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Serif shook his head. "No, I'm saying that the fact you are human gives you strength that werewolves don't have. That other supernatural creatures don't have. And even if you're going through rough times now, make sure you don't lose that. It could save your life one day. Hell, it already saved Scott's life."

There was silence. Bats screeched in the distance. Stiles glanced up. His eyes caught sight of slivers of the moon, obscured by the treetops. Serif got up and stretched his arms. He then flicked away the joint. "Well, perhaps we should meet up with the others, then. I think I've corrupted enough seventeen year olds for one night."

"I'm eighteen," Stiles said.

"Beg pardon?" Serif coughed.

"I'm eighteen, I'm old for my year," Stiles said. He laughed, _Could he be thinking what I'm thinking? _He thought.

Stiles and Serif's eyes met each other for a moment. The bats screeched again, and the night became filled with the sounds of rustling clothes and playful gasps. And for a few moments, veiled in the shadows of the forest, Stiles forgot that he was starved of sleep. He forgot that nightmares roamed his mind, and that darkness surrounded his heart. In those moments, as him and Serif felt each others hair and played with each others bodies, Stiles heart, mind, and soul blazed with passion. These would be the last happy moments he would have, before adversaries with black swords would cross through the nether, and a fox would steal his agency.

"You like acting? Really?"

"Yeah…I want to go into acting," Scott told Isaac and Derek.

Isaac wasn't laughing, but he was smiling. "What's so funny dude?" Scott growled.

"I mean, I feel like to be a good actor, you have to be a good liar. And with you, Scott…you're so trusting. And you're an open book. It's what I love about you, but…"

"He did fool Gerard. And me," Derek reminded them. "Scott….well….I think you'd be a pretty good actor."

"Just forget I said anything," Scott grumbled. Of the three of them, the young Alpha was still the most intoxicated.

Derek clapped Scott on the back. "Scott, I think you'll be good at whatever you want to do."

"You are a true Alpha, after all," Isaac told him.

Scott smiled. He noticed glimmers of orange appear on the horizon. The contour of the mountain range gleamed like molten bronze as the first rays of sunlight reared from the East.

Stiles and Serif appeared. Derek noticed that Stiles was wearing Serif's leather jacket. "You guys were gone for a while," Derek observed.

"Just exchanging human secrets," Stiles told him. "You know, us skinny defenseless folks have our club, too."

Serif chuckled, patted Derek on the back, and hurled a pack of cigarettes over the cliff overlooking the town.

"What'd you do that for?" Derek asked.

"Because Scott's right, this shit is bad for you," Serif told him.

Orange light filled the sky, and mist covering the mountain range shined with gold and orange. Serif took a bottle from the back of Stiles jeep, and chugged some more water. He could hear Derek muttering something to Isaac, an apology regarding a broken glass. Isaac put a hand on his shoulder, told him it was okay, and both the betas looked out as the sun entered the dome of the sky. Nearby, Scott had pulled Stiles into an embrace. Stiles had let go, and the two had started shadow boxing. Scott then tackled Stiles, and the two began scrambling on the earth, wrestling playfully. The early morning sun cast a brilliant glow on their features, which seemed to pulse with joy and adolescent innocence. It was as if battle scars of the earlier months had been washed away by the sunrise.

Serif was human, too human, but he sensed something was wrong with Stiles. He wasn't sure. For a moment, he wanted to say something, but he locked his eyes on the horizon. _Let them have this moment_, Serif told himself. _Let them be kids. Before they have to be heroes again. _

The sun came up over Beacon Hills, and a new day greeted the group.


End file.
